


Love Is All Around Us

by Reiya



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Christmas fic, Fluff, Inspired by Love Actually, Love, Love Actually AU, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya/pseuds/Reiya
Summary: Love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy but it's always there. An office romance. An old married couple. A connection between strangers that transcends all barriers.Nine lives. Nine stories. Nine loves.A Love Actually AU starring Viktor and Yuuri in the nine classic stories of love at Christmas





	Love Is All Around Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cryingoverspilledvodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryingoverspilledvodka/gifts).



> For the wonderful cryingoverspilledvodka aka Adele, who enables all of my worst impulses and is the reason this fic exists
> 
> The first chapter is based on the story of Jamie and Aurélia

The air was cool as Viktor exited Hasetsu station, but it was nothing compared to the bitter chill of the Russian winter he had just left behind. The station was quiet, only a few tired travellers bundled up in thick coats and scarfs wandering through its halls. A few of them glanced at Viktor curiously, eyes raking over the silver hair and pale eyes that so clearly marked him as a foreigner, but none stopped to question his presence.

Viktor took a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the peace and quiet of the small town wash over him. It was so different to St Petersburg, where every street was a bustle of noise and the buildings loomed tall over him, trapping him in the maze of streets. Once, he had loved his home. But this year, as the winter grew darker and the emptiness inside his chest grew wider, he had been desperate to get away.

And now he was here.

Picking up his suitcase, Viktor exited the station, Makkachin padding along happily by his side. The streets before him were narrow and sparsely populated, but the buildings along each side were bursting with colour and humming with sounds of life from within. Behind it all loomed a mountain, with a castle perched on its peak. Viktor recognised it. He had read about the castle in the brochure he had picked up at random from the travel agents the day he had decided to make the spontaneous trip. Something about Hasetsu had called to him as he gazed down at the glossy pages. Viktor wasn’t sure what, but something had drawn him across the sea to the quiet town at the foot of the hill as he searched for the inspiration that he had lost.

It was only a short walk across town to the onsen where he was staying. Viktor used his phone to guide him, navigating the twisting streets and nodding politely to the occasional person he walked past. Eventually, he came to the gates of Yu-topia. He had booked his room on impulse, picking the first place in the area he saw with decent reviews. But one look at the onsen told him that he had made a good choice. It was a simple building, but well-kept and homely. A warm yellow glow was streaming from the windows, lighting up the whole building and making it look warm and inviting. Viktor hurried to the door, stepping inside and feeling the chill of the outside instantly chased away.

The inside of Yu-topia gave off the same homely feeling as the outside. Viktor glanced around, enjoying how far removed the wooden walls and colourful furniture were from his apartment in St Petersburg. He had come to Hasetsu for a change and it seemed like that was exactly what he had found.

As he approached the reception, Viktor noticed that he wasn’t alone in the room. A man sat behind the front desk, head ducked down and fingers flying frantically across the phone screen in his hand. Viktor cleared his throat, wondering if perhaps his entrance hadn’t been noticed. The man behind the desk glanced up, then dropped his phone as he leapt from his seat. Pink tinged his cheeks as he stammered out what sounded like an apology, although the rapid-fire Japanese was incomprehensible to Viktor’s ears.

Viktor hardly noticed. He was far too busy staring. Dark hair fell over brown eyes that caught and held Viktor’s gaze, drawing him into their depths. A pink tongue darted out, wetting the man’s lips and Viktor swallowed heavily. With his head ducked, Viktor hadn’t been able to make out the man’s features but now he could, and he was very glad he had chosen Yu-topia as his place to stay.

The man spoke again, a question in his voice and Viktor snapped out of his trance. He still couldn’t understand a word of the Japanese being spoken to him and it must have shown on his face. With a look of realisation, the man before him switched fluidly to what Viktor recognised as English, although it did little to help him understand. He had never bothered to learn more than the very basics of the language, vastly preferring French instead, and even the little knowledge he had once had was gradually forgotten over the years.

The man spoke again and Viktor shrugged helplessly.

“Russian?” he asked, knowing the likelihood of the beautiful man before him knowing Russian was slim to none but figuring it was worth a shot all the same.

The man shook his head, looking regretful. Viktor sighed, realising he probably should have tried to learn at least a few words of Japanese before he’d booked a ticket out of the blue and hopped on a plane to the first place he had seen advertised in the travel agency on a whim.

“Viktor,” Viktor said, tapping on his chest to indicate it was his name. Even if he couldn’t speak a word of Japanese, there was still a booking under his name. “Viktor Nikiforov.”

“Yuuri,” the man replied, pointing to himself. Then his eyes flicked down to the ledger in front of him where a list of what Viktor assumed were names was written.

“Yuuri,” Viktor repeated, drawing out the vowels as he tried out the word on his tongue. Yuuri was still peering at the ledger but Viktor could see his mouth twitch up in a smile at Viktor’s attempt to say his name.

“Viktor,” he replied, pointing to a line of writing that Viktor assumed must be his own name and booking details. His name took on a new shape in Yuuri’s mouth, the V softening and the R lengthening until it was something new and exciting. It was endearing and Viktor could feel his face breaking out into a smile too.

Yuuri held out a key, then stepped out from behind the desk and beckoned for Viktor to follow him. It was then that Makkachin pounced. He leapt on Yuuri excitedly, barking enthusiastically as he attempted to make a new friend. Yuuri let out a startled yelp, toppling backwards as the full weight of the poodle hit him squarely in the chest.

Mortified, Viktor grabbed Makkachin and yanked him back, stammering out apologies that he knew Yuuri couldn’t understand. But when Makkachin was finally pried off him, Yuuri didn’t look upset. Far from it. Instead, his face was lit up with delight as Makkachin bounded forward again, licking Yuuri enthusiastically and wagging his tail frantically.

After a feel more seconds of lavishing Makkachin with attention, Yuuri gently pushed the poodle off him and stood up. He was beaming, hair dishevelled, and Viktor couldn’t help but think that it only improved his overall appearance. Glancing up at Viktor, Yuuri pointed to Makkachin and asked a question in Japanese, words incomprehensible but intent clear.

“His name is Makkachin,” Viktor replied, looking at Makkachin proudly.

“Makkachin,” Yuuri repeated, smiling down at the dog fondly. Giving Makkachin one last pat behind the ears, he beckoned for Viktor to follow him again, leading them away towards their rooms.

 

* * *

 

Viktor sank into the hot water of the onsen, letting out a sigh of relief. The tension from his many hours of travelling was washed away in the warmth and Viktor let himself slide down until everything from his neck down was submerged. The heat was heavenly, soaking deep into his bones.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, allowing the heat of the onsen and the gentle sounds of the evening lull him into a sense of peace that he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was only when his fingers began to wrinkle and his head began to spin from too long in the hot water that Viktor forced himself to stand up. Stretching upwards, he flexed muscles that had become loose and pliable during his long soak, pulling the last of the tension from his body.

From behind him, Viktor heard a choked off noise and a soft thump. Spinning around, he startled when he saw Yuuri standing in the doorway. Towels were scattered around Yuuri’s feet and his face was a flaming red as he scrambled to collect the scattered pile. Amused, Viktor watched as Yuuri pointedly avoided looking anywhere near him, a little too focused on salvaging the pile of towels he had just dropped. Viktor stood there, well aware of how exposed he was in water that wasn’t even brushing his knees and not caring in the slightest.

Eventually Yuuri looked up, still studiously avoiding Viktor’s gaze. Before Viktor could offer a word, he hurried away, clutching the pile of towels like a lifeline and face still suspiciously flushed.

Viktor followed soon after, drying off and wrapping himself in the wonderfully soft green clothes that had been laid out for him. After a quick trip to his room to make himself presentable, he wandered into what appeared to be the dining area. Low tables were scattered about the room and a few patrons were milling about. There was a small crowd gathered around a tv near the far wall, several empty bottles of saké scattered on the table between them. The delicious smell of food was wafting from the kitchen and Viktor inhaled deeply, feeling his mouth begin to water.

A friendly looking woman approached him, smiling brightly, and Viktor recognised her from Yu-topia’s website as one of the owners. She chattered away happily to him in Japanese as she led him over to a table, seeming not to care that he couldn’t understand a word she said. Strangely, the lack of understanding didn’t make Viktor feel isolated at all. Instead, he could feel a warmth growing inside him, a feeling of being included and accepted without thought that he hadn’t felt in years. There was something about the cozy atmosphere of Yu-topia that made him feel immediately at home, no matter how much of a stranger he might be.

The friendly woman left him with what appeared to be a menu, all the foods listed in both Japanese and English. Viktor could make out a handful of the English words, but not nearly enough to begin translating what any of the dishes might be. Briefly, he considered attempting to google translate the contents of each meal but before he could, movement across the room caught his eye.

Yuuri was exiting the kitchen, carrying a tray and clearing up the empty bottles and glasses scattered across the tables. When he passed Viktor’s table, Viktor caught his eye, gesturing him over. For a second, a look of embarrassment crossed Yuuri’s face and it looked for a moment like he might ignore Viktor entirely. Or possibly make a run for it. But eventually he walked over, clutching the tray a little tighter than Viktor thought was probably necessary.

“Any recommendations,” Viktor asked with what he hoped was a charming smile. Knowing that Yuuri couldn’t understand, he pointed at the menu and then to Yuuri, making his best questioning face.

Yuuri’s expression changed to one of understanding and he ran his finger down the list of food, coming to rest on one near the middle.

“Katsudon,” Yuuri said, looking lovingly down at the word on the menu.

“Katsudon,” Viktor repeated, closing the menu with a nod.

Yuuri flashed a small smile at him, then hurried away to the kitchen. While he waited, Viktor entertained himself by watching the other patrons, letting their chatter wash over him.

Soon enough Yuuri was back, his tray now filled with steaming food. Setting it down in front of Viktor, Yuuri looked on expectantly as Viktor grabbed his chopsticks and took a bite.

Flavour immediately exploded across his tongue, sending Viktor’s head spinning. Hastily, he shoved another piece of breaded pork into his mouth, barely resisting the urge to moan inappropriately as the meat melted on his tongue. It was like the nectar of the gods and Viktor was pretty sure he could eat nothing else for the rest of his life and be content.

“Delicious!” he exclaimed and Yuuri’s face lit up, reading Viktor’s joy from his tone even if his words were foreign. “It’s too good for words! Is this what God eats?”

Yuuri said something, voice bright and looking satisfied as he watched Viktor practically inhale the food. Then he turned and walked away, a smile still playing on his lips. Turning around, he glanced at Viktor one last time, expression soft, and Viktor felt his heart skip a beat.

He had a feeling that coming to Yu-topia might turn out to be one of the best decisions of his life.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Viktor took Makkachin for a walk along the nearby beach. The sea air was salty on lips and the cries of the gulls filled the sky in a morning chorus. Makkachin bounded along the sand and splashed happily in the surf, enjoying the freedom that came with no longer being in a crowded city. Viktor was content to stroll slowly, soaking up the atmosphere.

For most of their walk, the beach was deserted. But eventually, Viktor spotted a distant figure, breaking the solitude of the morning. He was about to turn away, but Makkachin had other ideas. The poodle let out an excited bark, breaking away from Viktor and bounding towards the person on the horizon. Viktor hurried to catch up as Makkachin raced across the sand towards what he could now make out was someone jogging towards them.

Makkachin barrelled into the jogger, barking excitedly. As he drew closer, Viktor realised that it was Yuuri. He was dressed in workout clothes, shirt clinging to him with sweat and sea spray and hair plastered to his forehead. Seeing Viktor, Yuuri waved, then ran his fingers through his hair to push it away from his eyes.

Viktor temporarily forgot how to speak.

Yuuri called out a greeting as he jogged over, Makkachin loping at his side.

“Hi Yuuri,” Viktor replied, after the few seconds it took for him to reboot his brain.

Yuuri spoke again, gesturing to himself and back towards the onsen in the direction he had just come. Then he looked pointedly at Viktor and Makkachin, a question in his eyes. Viktor realised he was asking if they were going back and he turned, realising just how far along the beach they had wandered.

Yuuri pointed to Viktor and Makkachin, then himself, inclining his head in the direction of Yu-topia. It seemed to be an offer to walk them home, or at least Viktor very much hoped it was. Nodding, he set off along the beach and was relieved when Yuuri fell into step beside him.

Silence stretched out as they walked, broken only by the rustling of the wind and the crunch of their feet against the sand. Viktor glanced at Yuuri, silently cursing the frustrating barrier between them. He wanted to talk to Yuuri, but it was impossible with no shared language between them.

Still, that was no reason not to try anyway. He had never been good with silence, always needing to fill the empty spaces with words.

“It’s a lovely day today,” he started lamely, then mentally kicked himself. It was probably a good thing he was talking in a language Yuuri couldn’t understand, if his chosen conversation starter was something as boring as the weather. Makkachin seemed to agree, huffing in disapproval and pressing up against Yuuri’s side, away from Viktor.

“He likes you,” Viktor told Yuuri, gesturing down at Makkachin. Yuuri looked down too, grinning and patting Makkachin’s head fondly.

“He never usually takes to people this quickly,” Viktor continued. Yuuri was watching him, seemingly intrigued. His eyes were following Viktor’s mouth as he spoke. As though, if he concentrated enough, he would be able to read the meaning of the words from the shape of Viktor’s lips.

“But then again, I liked you when I first met you and Makkachin and I both have good taste,” Viktor added, flashing Yuuri a smile.

Yuuri smiled back, letting out a flurry of Japanese as he glanced between Makkachin and Viktor. Viktor couldn’t understand the words but they were soft and melodic and he let the sound wash over him. Listening to Yuuri speak was pleasing, no matter how frustrating his own lack of understanding was.

Viktor continued to make idle conversation as they strolled down the beach. Occasionally, Yuuri chipped in with some words of his own, not seeming to mind to much that Viktor was rambling incoherently to him, nor that Viktor couldn’t provide an adequate response to anything he was saying. But mostly, Yuuri seemed content to listen, watching Viktor with rapt attention as he spoke, eyes never once leaving his face.

Eventually, they reached the onsen and were forced to part. Viktor turned towards his rooms while Yuuri headed off to the private areas where Viktor assumed the family must live.

“Goodbye Yuuri,” he called as Yuuri walked away.

Yuuri paused for a second and then turned, looking determined.

“Goodbye Viktor,” he called back and Viktor nearly walked into the nearest wall in shock. Yuuri’s Russian was shaky and heavily accented but understandable all the same. He must have copied the word straight from Viktor and Viktor felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

Yuuri raised his hand in an awkward half-wave, then turned and hurried away without another word. Viktor was left standing in the hallway with Makkachin, feeling suddenly lighter than he had in years.

 

* * *

 

Later that day, Viktor returned to the beach. With him he carried his typewriter, tucked safely under his arm. It had been a gift from his old mentor Yakov when he had first begun to take and interest in writing, and Viktor carried it with him everywhere he went. No matter how much his publisher tried to drag him into the modern era and convince him to write his first drafts on a computer instead. There was just something comforting about the click of the machine as it printed lines of neat text directly on the page. How it allowed for no mistakes, forcing each word Viktor wrote to be perfect.

Although his work had been far from perfect for years now, Viktor thought mournfully. Once, when he had been young and full of stories, the words had flowed onto paper in a never-ending stream. He had been proud of the works he had created, always striving for new and greater heights with every novel he wrote.

But as the years had gone on, his inspiration had faded and dulled, leaving only hollow words behind. His books still sold well, but Viktor had no love for his most recent creations. It was part of the reason he had packed up unexpectedly as winter and deadlines drew in, taking the first flight out of Russia in the desperate hope that he might find his inspiration again far across the sea.

Now he was here in Hasetsu and, for the first time in years, he was excited to write again. The beach felt like the perfect place. The gentle wash of the waves against sand was soothing and the solitude felt peaceful rather than the oppressive loneliness that had crushed him back in St Petersburg.

Settling himself down on the rocks, far enough away from the sand that it wouldn’t clog his machine, Viktor began to type. His latest novel was supposed to be a crime thriller, full of crocked characters and inevitable betrayals. But as his fingers danced across the keys, Viktor found that a different vision was filling his mind. A vision of warm brown eyes, of dark hair, and of a melodic voice speaking words he couldn’t understand but wished with all his heart that he could.

 

* * *

 

Gradually, the days stretched into weeks and Viktor found himself falling into a routine at Yu-topia. In the morning, he would take Makkachin for a walk and Yuuri would join them. It had started as them running into each other on the beach constantly as Yuuri was on his morning run, which had always inevitably led to them walking back to the onsen together. Then one morning, Viktor had turned up outside Yuuri’s door with Makkachin by his side and convinced Yuuri with matching pairs of puppy dog eyes to join them for the entire walk.

After that, morning walks together became their new normal. Viktor still rambled aimlessly as they strolled, talking to Yuuri about anything and everything that came into his head. Yuuri joined in more and more as the days went on, becoming more comfortable in Viktor’s presence until Yuuri’s voice was as familiar to Viktor as his own. Sometimes Viktor would point out things he saw, saying their names in Russian and listening in delight as Yuuri mimicked it before repeating the same word in Japanese. Viktor’s understanding of the language gradually grew, although he often caught Yuuri stifling laughter as Viktor butchered the words he was trying to pronounce.

Other days, they didn’t need words. Instead, laughter rang out on the beach as Yuuri chased Makkachin through the surf, or indignant yells as Viktor splashed water at him in a surprise attack. They would return to the onsen out of breath and smiling, Viktor’s heart beating a frantic rhythm against his ribcage that had nothing to do with the exertion of the walk.

Much to Viktor’s disappointment, Yuuri’s afternoons were taken up by working in the onsen. During that time, Viktor would wander back down to the beach to write, losing himself to the story. Yuuri often stopped by, a tray of tea in hand to warm Viktor as the days grew colder. Viktor was pretty sure that free tea and delivery to the beach wasn’t included in his stay at Yu-topia but he was hardly complaining.

The best days were when Yuuri stayed after delivering the drink, content to sit with Viktor and watch the waves as Viktor typed beside him. Every day, Viktor looked forward to the moment he would see Yuuri appear on the horizon and every day he would watch with regret when Yuuri eventually left. They might not speak the same language, but so much could be said without words.

“It’s the worst part of my day,” he told Yuuri one time as Yuuri gathered the empty cups and pot together, preparing to take them back to the onsen and resume his evening chores. “Watching you leave.”

Yuuri was silent for a moment, watching Viktor with something that looked like sadness in his eyes. Then he spoke softly, words unfamiliar but tone matching Viktor’s perfectly.

Viktor couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like a reply. It sounded like an agreement.

 

* * *

 

Disaster struck halfway through Viktor’s impromptu visit to Hasetsu.

As usual, he was sitting on the rocks by the beach, typing out pages of his new novel and trying to ignore how much one of the new characters had begun to resemble a certain person he had come to know. The wind was stronger than usual that day, tugging at Viktor’s hair and clothes with its icy fingers. Viktor had brought a cup of tea down to the beach with him to keep him warm, but it was long empty now. The empty cup was now sitting on his pile of completed pages, keeping them from blowing away in the breeze.

A call of greeting came from behind him and Viktor turned to see Yuuri approaching, a tray clutched in his hands with a fresh pot of tea and two cups resting carefully on it. He smiled at Viktor as he approached, setting the tray down next to him and absentmindedly picking up the empty cup to replace it with a fresh one.

Both of them jumped as another gust of wind blew just as Yuuri lifted the cup, sending the pages of Viktor’s book spiralling into the air like birds taking flight. Both of them watched on in horror as the pages were carried away, blowing into the sea and caught by the swaying waves.

Yuuri let out what sounded like a swear mixed in with frantic apologies, tossing the cup to the ground and dashing after the pages.

“Just leave them,” Viktor called after him, abandoning his typewriter and rushing to catch up, hoping to calm the panic in Yuuri’s eyes. “They’re not important.”

Yuuri ignored him, sprinting towards the sea and kicking off his shoes as he did so. Realising what Yuuri intended to do, Viktor quickened his pace.

“They’re not worth it,” he called to Yuuri, looking in trepidation at the freezing sea where half his book was gradually floating further and further away.

The words died on his lips as Yuuri pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside without a second thought. Viktor’s eyes lingered on Yuuri’s chest, robbing him of coherent thought for several seconds. Then Yuuri dived into the freezing waters and the spell was broken, replaced by the freezing spray of the sea.

Realising he had to join Yuuri if he didn’t want to end up looking like a total bastard, Viktor followed, pulling off his own shirt as quickly as he could. Yuuri’s head reappeared, shaking water out of his eyes as he surfaced and grabbing the pages nearest to him. Viktor hopped awkwardly as he pulled off his shoes and then stumbling into the water after Yuuri, gasping as the cold hit his skin.

Yuuri set off with sure strokes, picking up more pages before they were carried too far away by the ocean. Viktor followed with an awkward doggy paddle, grabbing whatever he could reach. Yuuri was talking to himself as he swam, glaring at the pages as if insulting them for having the audacity to fly away and ruin their afternoon. Then he turned to Viktor, brandishing the sodden pages and yelling something in a voice filled with exasperation. Even without understanding, Viktor had the feeling it might be an question about his poor choice of writing implement and distinct lack of copies that had landed them in this mess in the first place.

Submerged in freezing water, Viktor had to admit it might be time to start using a computer and backing up his work. His publisher would be thrilled.

 

* * *

 

They ended up back at Yu-topia, smothered under layers of blankets that Yuuri’s parents had piled on top of them. The pages of Viktor’s book were hanging around the room to dry. Some were surprisingly salvageable, but others were ruined beyond repair. Strangely, Viktor found he hardly cared. He was enjoying snuggling up next to Yuuri while wrapped in blankets far too much, both of them sipping warm drinks and shivering the last of the cold from their bones.

“I should name one of the characters after you,” Viktor told Yuuri, pressing slightly closer under the guise of sharing body heat. “Since you saved half the book.”

Yuuri was staring intently at one of the pages drying next to him, peering at the Cyrillic as if he could force it to reveal its secrets though sheer force of will. Turning to Viktor, he asked something in Japanese, tapping the page.

When it was clear Viktor didn’t understand, Yuuri tapped the page again and then mimicked crying. He swiftly followed it with laughter, then clutched his hands to his heart as if he were in love. After a few seconds, Viktor realised he was trying to ask about the genre of the book.

“It’s about crime,” he replied. Trying to mimic Yuuri’s technique, he did a very poor imitation of a gun being fired. When Yuuri still looked confused, Viktor pretended to wrap his hands around his own neck. “Murder.”

Yuuri’s eyes lit up in understanding.

He asked something else, then let his eyes widen and mouth gasp in mock fear before pointing back at the book again.

“Is it scary?” Viktor translated the question. “Yes, sometimes I suppose. Although mainly just scary by how bad the writing is.”

Yuuri’s lips twitched up, clearly catching the joke in Viktor’s voice even if he couldn’t translate it. Then they returned to comfortable silence together, sipping their drinks and pressing close together, sharing each other’s warmth.

 

* * *

 

Even though many of his pages had been saved, Viktor decided against re-writing the book. His heart had never quite been in it anyway and it was only by the request of his publisher that he was writing the crime thriller at all. But his inspiration had been pulling him elsewhere for some time now and finally he decided to follow where it led. Now the words he crafted were about a small village by the sea and the beautiful man who lived there.

But the more he wrote, the more time passed, and the more Viktor dreaded its passing. He had arrived in Hasetsu with the first of the winter’s chill but now the longest nights were drawing near and with them, the end of his stay. He had promised his publisher that he would return to St Petersburg soon and now his final day was drawing rapidly nearer. And even if he didn’t want to go, he couldn’t stay in Japan forever. No matter how much he wanted to.

Yuuri must have known it too, must have seen from Yu-topia’s records how long Viktor was booked to stay. There was an air of mournfulness about him as Viktor’s last day approached, as though he was readying himself for the inevitable goodbye.

On their last morning together, they walked along the beach in silence. Makkachin plodded along beside them, ears dropping as he seemed to sense the solemn atmosphere. Viktor flexed his fingers, glancing down and wondering if he should take Yuuri’s hand. He wanted to, so badly. But what would be the point, when their inevitable parting was so near? Soon he would return to the chill of St Petersburg and the silent emptiness of his apartment and Yuuri and Hasetsu would become nothing but a memory. Starting something now would only make it more painful to leave when the time came.

“I’ll miss you,” Viktor said into the air when they finally approached the onsen, not sure if he could bring himself to look at Yuuri as he said goodbye. “I don’t think you’ll ever know how much.”

There was silence from beside him and Viktor glanced around. Yuuri had halted in his tracks, biting his lip and watching Viktor from under his eyelashes. His brows were furrowed in concentration, as if he was thinking very hard about something. Then his expression cleared and he closed the few steps between them, stretching up on his toes to press his lips against Viktor’s.

Electricity burned through the place where they touched and Viktor kissed back, feeling shock and joy flood through him in equal measure. But then Yuuri was pulling away, eyes downcast as he broke the kiss. He mumbled something in Japanese but Viktor recognised the words, his weeks of living in the country finally paying off.

It was a goodbye.

Yuuri turned and fled back into the onsen and Viktor was left standing outside, the memory of their first and final kiss burning on his lips.

 

* * *

 

The emptiness of his apartment in St Petersburg was like a physical ache in his chest as soon as Viktor stepped through the doors. The shining steel of the counters and white of the walls seemed to leech heat from the room, so different to the comforting wooden walls of Yu-topia.

Viktor missed it desperately. He missed Yuuri desperately.

He hadn’t seen Yuuri since their final goodbye. Viktor had searched for him, but Yuuri had been no-where to be found. So Viktor had begun the long journey home. Had sat on a train and then a plane while thinking of nothing but Yuuri. Had stepped though the arrivals gate in Pulkovo airport and been surrounded by joyful families, partners, children, friends. All reuniting around him while he walked on alone, with no-one there to greet him.

That night, he we went to sleep in a bed that was far too big and far too empty and wished that he had never left Japan.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next couple of weeks, Viktor tried to resume his life in St Petersburg, to little success. Every day he tried to write, but the magic of the story had been left behind in Hasetsu and the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, he took Makkachin for long walks around the city, losing himself to his thoughts.

It was during one of those walks that he stumbled across a poster plastered to the side of a building that caught his eye. ‘Learn a language in just a few weeks!’ it declared in eyewateringly bright font. Below that was the address for the school of language offering the classes and a list of the languages they offered. One immediately caught Viktor’s eye and he tore the poster down, crumpling it up and stuffing it in his pocket.

For the next couple of days it remained there as he tried to put it out of his mind. What would be the point of learning Japanese now after all? But the thought refused to leave his mind and one day, Viktor found himself calling to enquire about classes. And the next, he was sitting in a booth wearing headphones as a cheerful woman spoke Japanese phrases in his ear and asked him to repeat them over and over again. Drilling the language into his brain with endless repetition.

The classes came with a free app and every day from then on, Viktor listened to the lessons on his phone any chance he could. During his morning run. As he was walking Makkachin. While he was cooking. During any spare moment that he could find. He didn’t have a plan in mind, nor any real goal. There was only the drive to learn, to understand the language that he would now forever hear in Yuuri’s voice.

 

* * *

 

It was on Viktor’s birthday that everything finally came to a head.

That morning he had woken up to a cold bed and an ache in his chest. Another year older. Another birthday to spend alone. Chris would probably call from Switzerland later and Yakov was likely to show up at the door sometime that evening but apart from that, there was nothing to look forward to but Makkachin’s company and the bottle of wine he had been saving in his kitchen.

And suddenly, Viktor couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

His birthday was supposed to be the day he spent with the people he loved. If there was any day to take a risk, it was today.

It only took Viktor a few minutes to throw together a bag, calling Yakov and begging him to take care of Makkachin for a few days while Viktor dealt with some urgent business. In no time at all he was headed for the airport, the next flight to Fukuoka already booked.

The journey to Hasetsu took hours but to Viktor, the time flew by in a blur. He was too full of nerves, practically vibrating in his seat as he thought about what he was about to do. It was a crazy idea. A crazy, stupid, terrible idea and Yuuri would probably laugh in his face but he had to try or he would never forgive himself. He couldn’t live with Yuuri always being his greatest ‘what if’.

The nerves only mounted as he grew closer and closer to Yu-topia, finally reaching their peak as he stood outside. There were colourful lights strung around the onsen and Viktor realised with a start that they were decorations for Christmas. The festivities back home weren’t for a couple of weeks yet and he had somehow forgotten in the rush of the day what else was often celebrated on his birthday.

For a moment, Viktor almost considered leaving, not wanting to interrupt whatever celebrations the Katsuki’s might be having. But then he strengthened his resolve. He had already come so far and it had to be now. After all, what better day to ask for a miracle on than Christmas?

Reaching up, he knocked sharply on the door. The sound of running feet sounded from within and moments later the door was swung open, revealing three identical young girls staring at him with wide, curious eyes.

 _“Who are you?”_ asked one at the same time the other two chorused with _“What do you want?”_

“ _My name is Viktor_ ,” Viktor replied in shaky Japanese. “ _I’m here…_ ”

He swallowed heavily, knowing how crazy the words sounded but pushing on anyway.

“ _I’m here to ask Yuuri to marry me._ ”

The girls let out a chorus of excited shrieks, dashing back inside the house.

 _“What is it?”_ Viktor heard an unfamiliar voice ask from within.

 _“There’s a crazy man at the door who wants to marry Yuuri,”_ one of the triplets yelled, voice echoing back to where Viktor was still standing in the doorway.

 _“What are you talking about,”_ came a familiar voice and Viktor felt his heart clench painfully at the sound. _“Who would want to marry…”_

The voice trailed off as Yuuri appeared in the doorway, mouth falling open as he saw who was standing there.

“ _Viktor_ ,” he breathed, eyes wide with shock.

Behind him, a crowd had begun to gather. Viktor recognised Yuuri’s parents and sister but there were many more faces he had never seen before. The three girls who had greeted him at the door had pushed their way to the front of the crowd and he was pretty sure he could see one of them with her phone out, an expression of glee on her face.

Viktor swallowed heavily, knowing that he would only have one chance.

 _“Yuuri,”_ he began, praying his few weeks of Japanese and desperate preparing on the journey over would be enough. _“I’ve come here to…to ask you to marry me.”_

There was a chorus of gasps from the crowd and Yuuri’s eyes widened impossibly further, shock written across every feature.

 _“I know I seem insane because I hardly know you,”_ Viktor hurried to add, tongue tripping over the words. One of the twins giggled and he had a feeling he had messed up the grammar somewhere but he pressed on, needing to finish. _“But sometimes things are so clear that they don’t need proof.”_

A smile was growing on Yuuri’s face. Incredulous, as though he couldn’t quite believe what was happening, but joyful all the same.

 _“And I’ll live here,”_ Viktor continued, gesturing to the onsen around them. _“Or you can live with me in Russia. I don’t care, as long as I’m with you.”_

He took a deep breath, before hurrying to say the final lines.

 _“Of course I don’t expect you to be as foolish as me. And of course I predict you’ll say no. But…”_ he paused, glancing at the decorations and the crowd of family and friends standing behind Yuuri _. “It’s Christmas and I just wanted to… check.”_

There was silence for several long moments.

 _“Say yes you moron,”_ one of the women from behind Yuuri yelled. Yuuri flushed a dark red, glancing behind him before turning to Viktor again, a look of determination on his face.

“I…would like that,” he said in halting but understandable Russian. Everything inside Viktor froze, then flooded with joy as Yuuri’s words hit him.

“Yes,” Yuuri added, smiling breaking out across his face as he beamed at Viktor, eyes alight with happiness. “My answer is yes.”

 _“What did you say?”_ Yuuri’s mother asked in Japanese, her hands clutched to her chest as she watched the scene unfold.

 _“I said yes,”_ Yuuri replied and the group behind him broke into cheers.

Yuuri reached out, taking Viktor’s hand in his own and drawing them together.

“You learned Russian?” Viktor asked, heart feeling so full he was sure it was about to burst.

“Just in case,” Yuuri replied. “You learned Japanese?”

“Just in case,” Viktor echoed, then pulled Yuuri into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays everyone! And happy birthday Viktor!
> 
> This fic really should have been a countdown to Christmas, but instead I was watching Love Actually on the 23rd and had a sudden urge to write a fic where Yuuri and Viktor play all of the nine couples in the nine different stories of the film. So I wrote the first chapter in a frantic rush to try and get it done before Christmas and here we are. 
> 
> Each chapter will be focusing on Viktor and Yuuri but it will be a different story each time. For those not familiar with the film, I will add individual warnings on each chapter about the contents so you can decide if that particular story is one you want to read. Also for anyone who hasn’t seen the film, [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYjMuvNjqxE) is a link to the swimming scene from this chapter and [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nKdSvhCg3VY) is a link to the proposal scene. 
> 
> If you want to see more of my writing, you can find me on tumblr as [Kazliin](http://kazliin.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
